The End of Heartache
by verbal acuity
Summary: Dirty - All Oshitari Yuushi could do was wrap his arms tightly around him and lift him, carrying him to his bedroom - angst. in-progress. eventually.
1. Seek Me

**Author's Note: **Listening to the song "The End of Heartache" by Killswitch Engage has given me an idea for this multi-chapter story. Welcome to my angsty Dirty Pair story.

**Notes before Start: **In this story, since it seems to mainly be in the past, for now, the italics are the present, regular is the past. Just to leave out confusion.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One: Seek Me**

_Heavy panting could be heard all the way from the other side of the door, even through the pounding raindrops on the roof and windows. It was about seven in the evening and he was sitting at his desk, glasses on the flat surface as he skimmed the notebook that held his answers. He didn't expect any interruptions, mainly because the rest of his team was busy with the same assignment, excluding the three second year regulars that had more mild assignments. He had heard that Mukahi was called in sick with a fever, so he wasn't even at school, let alone practice, for almost a week. No one was free enough to be at Oshitari's house, so he didn't know what to expect at his front door..._

_"What is it?"_

_With a small creeking noise from the hinges, the tensai of Hyoutei Gakuen's Tennis Club slipped open the door, immediately locking eyes with a soaking wet, panting, redheaded acrobat. His doubles partner looked feverish and, to top it all off, he was wearing nothing besides a pair of sweatpants and a child-sized tanktop; no shoes, no coat. Nothing to keep him warm._

_"Gakuto! What are you doing?" He asked frantically, losing his cool for the first time, and grasped the slender wrist, tugging the shivering boy into his house. "What happened? You stayed home with a fever, why aren't you in bed?"_

_He received no answer, only a small whimper and the sight of the crown of Gakuto's red hair as the small boy stared at the floor. Oshitari watched as his partner kicked at nothing on the floor with his bare feet, looking for a distraction. Without a second thought, the tensai softly grasped the bottom of the feverish boy's chin, lifted his head up and looked at the distant eyes as they glanced quickly away, averting any contact._

_"Gakuto!"_

_"Yuushi..." The redhead finally spoke, falling forwards into his partner, no longer conscious. All Oshitari Yuushi could do was wrap his arms tightly around him and lift him, carrying him to his bedroom; there was no way he was letting Gakuto out of his sight after this--at least not for a while._

* * *

Oshitari Yuushi sat, discontent, in his classroom, listening to his teacher ramble on about something he really didn't care about. He, being the tensai he was, knew everything anyway. He shouldn't even be in the grade anymore; he knew too much, much more than the teachers had. He had to literally force himself to remain awake and listen; it was so boring. And to conclude his dismay, he had heard from Atobe that Gakuto was stuck home with a fever, so he would be completely alone during practice. He might just have to stay on the benches with Jirou, the adorable Sleeping Beauty.

"Oshitari Yuushi-kun," the teacher spoke, addressing the tensai for his attention. "Would you please answer the question on the board?"

The blue-haired boy looked up, snapping out of his daze before he shook his head. "No." With that, he pushed his chair out and stood, walking towards the classroom door. Not sparing even one glance, he turned the handle, pushed forward, and walked out into the hallway. He had to find Atobe for answers.

* * *

"Atobe."

"What is it, Oshitari? You pulled Ore-sama out of class, though Ore-sama's really not complaining," the self-proclaimed 'King of Tennis' said with a snap of his fingers, giving the tensai a look before he continued. "Ore-sama does not want to stay after school because of work missing when he could very well be kidnapping Tezuka."

"Atobe, shut up for a minute."

That literally made 'Ore-sama' shut up. No one ever really talked to him like that, especially not Oshitari Yuushi, Hyoutei's tensai.

"Why were you the one that was told that Gakuto wasn't in school because of a fever, and not me? He should have told me!" Oshitari was losing his cool, over Mukahi Gakuto, nonetheless. "He tells me everything!"

"Oshitari, calm down," Hyoutei's captain said, eyeing the other. "I didn't hear it from Gakuto." For once, he left out the 'Ore-sama' completely, giving the serious effect. "His parents called the school, Sakaki-sensei heard and told me. That's it."

Oshitari's face faltered as he stared at his captain. Gakuto was never sick--at least not sick enough for the school to contact Sakaki, the music teacher and tennis coach. "What's wrong with Gakuto?"

"Sakaki-sensei was very vague, but from what I heard, he only had a fever. All else, you'd have to get from the Mukahis. It's under strict word that nothing gets leaked into the school; only select teachers know."

Without further word, Atobe turned on heel and stepped away from the tensai. Flicking his wrist, he gave a silent farewell and reentered his classroom. Oshitari was left alone to his thoughts.

* * *

Practice was nothing without the redhead. Nothing. The tensai refused to play any form of tennis without his doubles partner because Gakuto was the one he worked well with most. It was plain and boring without the jumpy, acrobatic player. And no, Jirou didn't count because he wasn't as acrobatic...and he always slept.

"Oi, Oshitari-senpai," Ohtori started, fidgeting gently on his feet as he stood in front of the blue-haired boy. "Are...Are you going to practice today? Because--"

"No, Ohtori, I'm not," he stated firmly before he gave the slender blonde a glance. He fought the urge to lean over and pet his hair. He didn't mind most of the Regulars, especially the second years because they were so innocent, well, Hiyoshi wasn't too innocent--he had the intention of 'Gekokujou'ing a select few of his senpai, so he wasn't so innocent in Oshitari's eyes--but Ohtori...the innocence killed him. Jirou and Gakuto basically had Ohtori's innocence, though, Gakuto could be a bit more...forward sometimes.

... Gakuto.

He was reminded all over again about the fact that the acrobat wasn't in his presense...and he felt himself becoming distant; he didn't even notice Ohtori shyly creeping away from him, as well as the slightly fearful look his kouhai had given him. It wasn't very senpailike to frighten his kouhai, now was it?

Without a further thought, he had reached out and gently began petting the soft, blonde locks. He knew by now that that would never wake up a sleeping Akutagawa Jirou, mainly because it soothed him even more.

"Oshitari." He heard the firm voice of his tennis captain, as well as feel himself being blocked from the sun by a shadow. Atobe Keigo. "You should go home. You're in no condition to be staying here."

"Atobe, I have no need to go home. I'm just fine here."

"Ore-sama demands that you, Oshitari Yuushi, go home and rest."

It was final. No one goes against Atobe Keigo when he 'demands' something. Ore-sama was a very powerful man. No one was stupid enough to even _try_ going against that. Not even Oshitari Yuushi, a tensai.

With that said, Oshitari stood, leaving the sleeping blonde alone, and walked to the locker room. He changed silently, grasped his tennis bag and dialed for one of his various limousines; after all, Hyoutei was the richest school in Tokyo. He awaited his ride to appear, got in, and went home.

Allowing himself to relax in the warmth of his home, he let out a sigh, the events of which occurred that day sinking in.

What was wrong with Gakuto?

* * *

**End Note: **Sorry it's so short. It's a sort of a prologue. I suppose...XD

Please let me know your opinion!


	2. Call Me

**Notes: **In this chapter's case, italics are dreams/nightmares. As well as phone conversations from the other end.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Call Me**

At home, Oshitari Yuushi slept, though not soundly. He was plagued overnight with nightmares of what could have happened to his partner; nightmares of which he couldn't wake himself up from. He broke out into a cold sweat, tossing and turning in his bed, his glasses somewhere in the masses of his drenched sheets; he had forgotten to put them on his nightstand before he fell into a surreal world.

* * *

_In the pouring rain, Oshitari Yuushi of Hyoutei Gakuen ran down the streets of Hyoutei's side of Tokyo, clad only in a light tanktop and common sweatpants, something of which he would never wear too commonly in reality. But that was the basis of a dream. Surreality._

_Heavily panting, he stopped under the nearest tree, right hand on the trunk as he caught up his breathing. He had been running...running from something, though he had no idea what._

_"D-Damn it..." he panted, chest rising and falling with every breath he took. Fearing the inevitable, he looked up, only to meet the eyes of a familiar redhead. As quick as the eyes met, the boy turned away and walked from the blue-haired boy, leaving him alone without even a chance glance._

_A loud crash sounded and, before he could even run after the boy, the sky lit up with a bright light..._

* * *

He woke with a start, body shooting up as he breathed heavily as if he had lost his breath. As the room lit up with the flash of lightning, followed by the immediate crash of thunder, he didn't know if his dream was real...or imagined. His thought of reality was breaking.

With a groan, he got up from his soaking wet bed, eyed the sheets spewed across the usually immaculate floor, and sauntered quickly towards the bathroom for a well-needed shower. He felt utterly disgusting with the feeling of sweat covering his body.

He undressed and immediately stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away his troubles for that moment, though he knew it wouldn't work every time. The water calmed him and he finally began to relax, washing the nightmares away.

Stepping out of the shower once he turned off the water, he dried himself off and made his way back into the bedroom, giving his clock a glare once he saw the time.

_4:42am._

The day couldn't get any worse; he had at least two hours until he had to wake up for school...And he was planning to go. If he didn't, he'd be stuck at home, thinking about Mukahi Gakuto...and his horrible nightmare. Was that really Gakuto walking away from him?

He sighed, never even bothering to put his glasses on--he didn't care at this point, he could see without them. Really.

"Gakuto..."

* * *

_6:24am._

He had sat there, for the most part, for two hours, thinking. He never looked at his clock until that very moment...and he was glad he hadn't. Time would have gone by so slow if he had.

Finally standing up, he trudged to the kitchen and started up a pot of boiling water for tea; he needed it to wake up, especially now.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

He scowled towards the phone; who the Hell would call this early? He really didn't want to answer, but it was the only way to make the incessant ringing stop.

Lifting up the phone, he answered with a slightly groggy voice, "What?"

_"Is that any way to treat Ore-sama when he calls to help?"_

"Atobe..." He sighed and allowed himself to settle comfortably in his chair. "If I wanted help, I'd call you--"

_A sigh from the other end of the phone, followed by the other's words. "Ore-sama knows you need help, Oshitari. You just need to accept it."_

The tensai sighed and rubbed his temples with his free hand as if to soothe a pounding headache. "All right, Atobe. Since it's inevitable, why don't you just come over?" he suggested exasperatedly, leaning back in the chair.

_A chuckle from Atobe. "Good. Ore-sama will be right over. He'll give you a ride to school, as well. Wait for me."_

Raising an eyebrow at the phone, he nodded, hanging it up after it made that obnoxious dial tone noise. Just what he needed--a talk with Atobe Keigo. Would that _really _help him along the way?

* * *

A whistle came from the stove area, signifying that his water was completely boiled. Luckily, he had poured in enough water for two people--Atobe would kill him for not making tea for him, so it wasn't a waste of water, after all.

He poured the water into two cups, letting it sit for the tea to settle just as a knock came to the door. It took him a moment to answer because he was setting up the tea, but Atobe should have understood. "I'm coming..." he said softly, opening the door to the always perfect Ore-sama. "Good morning, Atobe."

"Hello, Oshitari," he responded, smiling. "I assume you've made tea, then?"

That made the tensai manage a smile. Atobe was always the same Atobe. "Of course."

They drank their tea at the table in silence, either of them a bit worried about breaking the silence. They feared the windows would shatter with the sudden noise. But, as always, Atobe got the first word. Being the first always suited him best, and Oshitari Yuushi knew that well.

"Oshitari," it wasn't such a good start, but it worked because it got the blue-haired boy's attention. Once he finally got a look at the tensai, Atobe realized that he wasn't wearing his usual just-for-show glasses. It was odd for him. "I can only assume that...you've been wondering about Mukahi, aan?" Though he took out his trademark 'Ore-sama,' he still left in his noteworthy 'aan.' It was what made Atobe Keigo...Atobe Keigo.

His answer was a nod, followed by fingers gently fiddling with the mug he had chosen for his own tea--the mug that Gakuto had bought him for Christmas. Though it was pinkish-red, it had a little cat on it, stretching much like Mukahi Gakuto himself would. It was Oshitari's favorite mug...and the one that he would never allow anyone else to use, besides Gakuto, of course. It was one of Gakuto's favorites, as well.

"Well, I think you'd do better, for now, to not think about him. It'll be hard for you to continue in classes and tennis without--"

"Atobe. I cannot play tennis without my doubles partner. That is final."

Oshitari was stubborn, that was clear, but the captain thought that he'd at least be a little understanding. Gakuto was home with a fever, or so Oshitari thought, but Atobe knew better. Atobe knew every aspect of his team and, despite his arrogant ways, he cared about them and understood what they were thinking. He could read anyone--anyone besides Tezuka Kunimitsu, Oshitari concluded. And he knew that his captain was hiding something from him.

"Yuushi," he started, using the tensai's first name this time to make himself sound more demanding. "You need to understand that you will be without Mukahi Gakuto for at least a week."

Oshitari's face paled at the thought, his unobscured eyes widening. A week? Didn't Gakuto only have a fever?

He stood, almost dropping the mug as he lost some grip. But he wasn't going to lose the mug, too. He was going to find out what was wrong with Gakuto, even if he had to go to the redhead's house to find out.

"I'm going over there, Atobe," he said, gently placing the mug on the table. "I need to ask him myself why he won't tell me anything--"

"Yuushi." Atobe's voice was firm, hard, and demanding as he grasped Oshitari's wrist in his hand, keeping him in place. "It's been under strict word that you don't find out. Not yet, at least. Yuushi, be patient. He'll come to you soon," he said in a more calm voice, letting the tensai's wrist go before turning to the door. He stopped once his hand touched the handle. "If you plan on coming to school, which I highly recommend, please get dressed and meet me in the car. I'll be waiting. If not, I trust you won't do anything stupid while I'm away."

With a smirk, Atobe was out the door, flicking his wrist in an 'I'm still watching you even though I'm at school' kind of way. Atobe Keigo had connections...and he meant everything he had said.

* * *

**End Note: **I'm sorry this is so short, too. I'm trying to make this as good as possible. / Please review. I need more opinions.

And thank you to those who have reviewed already! It's greatly appreciated!


	3. I'll Be Waiting

**Notes: **Italics are dreams/nightmares. Whatever you wanna call 'em. Sorry this chapter's short. I'm thinking what else needs to be done before the big conclusion. Thank you for your support!

* * *

**Chapter Three: I'll Be Waiting**

Much to Atobe's surprise, Oshitari _did_, in fact, meet him in the car. The tensai, once dressed and less disheveled, actually looked normal - well, to whatever circumstances the captain had considered 'normal,' that is. Atobe himself hadn't really been normal, at least not to other people; though he was considered normal to Oshitari, the blue-haired boy having been the closest one to him.

"That's much better, aan? Onward to school!" he shouted, rather dramatically, at that, to both his teammate and the driver as he snapped his fingers defiantly.That was something Oshitari had to grow used to in order to deal with long tennis practices after school. And now, since Gakuto was missing, to an extent, he'd have to endure even more of it. But the more he dealt with it all, the more curious he got, as well as more antsy about waiting.

* * *

The day drawled out, Oshitari's patience wearing thin. The longer he waited, the more suspense added on, and it killed him. But, the end of the day was drawing nearer and, hopefully, practice would slow down his thinking process. Sure, it'd be hard to play without a doubles partner, but soon, Gakuto would be back, everything would be normal, and he'd be able to play tennis normally again, nothing wrong. Or so he thought. But he realized, Atobe knew something that he didn't.

"Damn it," he groaned, just as the bell rang. Took long enough for the last class of the day to end. It seemed like forever, literally. Quickly, he gathered his belongings and ran for the for, ignoring whatever his teacher had been mumbling about tomorrow's work. He didn't care. He wanted practice, and to go home (preferably get a call from Gakuto so he could be less worried, but that was besides the point). Maybe, just maybe, Atobe would finally let him know something about the redhead's absense . . . if he was lucky.

Quickly sliding through the hallways and through to the clubroom, then the locker room, he changed (sans his partner), and ran out for practice, panting as if he'd been practicing for hours on end. Once Atobe was in sight, he skidded to a quick stop right in front of him, casting him a hard look before speaking. "Atobe . . . what . . . Gakuto . . . now . . ." His words came out piece by piece, the self-proclaimed 'King of Tennis' unsure exactly what was said, though he could gather from it what he meant.

"Oshitari," he started, gently placing his hand on his teammate's shoulder. "Ore-sama still is not obliged to say anything to you. After all, he is under strict word." And with that, he turned, nothing further to say, and flicked his wrist in a way that said 'You had better get to practicing before Ore-sama tears you apart,' then walked away, smirk in place. He left one startled, confused Oshitari Yuushi behind him in his wake. Oh, how he loved stumping a tensai. It brought great victory.

* * *

Practice was useless. Utterly useless. Two and a half hours of boring singles, followed by quick, yet painful games against Hiyoshi Wakashi. He was so distracted, that he almost lost the match against the second year. There was no way he was going to be Gekokujou'ed, with or without Gakuto. Never. But there was really no one else to play. He couldn't play doubles against the Shishido-Ohtori pair because he didn't have his own doubles partner. Atobe was too high-and-mighty during that day's practice, that he thought himself too great to play (Kabaji was out of the question). And Jirou . . . well; Jirou did what he did best - slept to his heart's content. So all that was left was either Taki (that was a major 'hell no'), and Hiyoshi. It was evident that he had chosen Hiyoshi.

Finally, after he did his time, he made his way home, and flopped onto his bed as soon as he had arrived. There was nothing better to do. A few times, though, he found himself reaching for his cell phone - once or twice, he actually grabbed it and sought through his contact list - to call Gakuto. For the third time, he lifted the phone from his nightstand and found Gakuto's name in there, and pressed 'send.' Almost immediately, he flipped his phone closed and threw it to the other side of his bed, in hopes that he wouldn't be tempted to try again. "Damn it," he had groaned, lying back down with a huff. He was definitely not acting like himself . . . and it was all because of one Mukahi Gakuto.

In order to not give in and call, he rolled over slightly, and reached into his nightstand - once he pulled the drawer open - and retrieved the item he was looking for. A simple romance novel (anything but the Notebook, please), and lied back down to read it. What else could he do? Besides this, he'd have to literally restrain himself from grabbing his phone and calling the acrobat. And Atobe was the one that told him he couldn't know. 'Not yet,' he'd said, and he trusted Atobe. He trusted his captain with all he could. Atobe Keigo wouldn't lie about something, especially when it came to something as important as his team.

Shutting the book with a loud slam, he groaned and rolled onto his back and gently placed the book onto the nightstand before lifting his head and moving his hands behind it. Slowly, he lowered his head and rested it on his hands, looking longingly up at the ceiling. "Gakuto," he whispered to nothing in particular, and shut his eyes, falling right to sleep.

* * *

_Again, he was running. This time, though, there was no rain. But he ran; ran as fast as he could, like something was chasing him. "Damn it . . . damn it . . ." he panted those words over and over, even as he turned the corner. He didn't know what - or who - it was; didn't know what it wanted . . . and didn't know how to get away. But he damn well tried. "Go . . . away," he groaned, collapsing onto the ground as he came to a dead-end. No going back. There was no way out._

_Ceasing all movements, even his own breath, he waited to see if 'it' would speak to him - say something, anything. But the words, the threats, the _fright _never came. And he stood up softly, slowly, still facing the wall - the trap he was in. With one silent curse, one mutter of his awaited demise, he slowly, assuringly turned around . . . ready to face whatever it was._

_From his peripheral, he saw the shadow; the shadow of something familiar. He'd seen it before, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He continued turning, in hopes of seeing the actual figure of it - anything but the shadow - then _crash!

* * *

He groaned from his position on the floor. Another nightmare. Another nightmare with no reasoning - none whatsoever - except to mess with his head. He was beginning to wonder . . . will it ever end?

* * *

**Reviews are lovely. They help me steer the story, as well as the way my brain works. x3**


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